Life Goes On
by Dragonfly8716
Summary: What happens when Carly and Freddie go to college and leave Sam behind? Spam.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly. I do have a few hand-painted mugs.

A/N: This starts during Carly and Freddie's sophomore year of college.

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October 29, 2013, Bushwell Plaza

Mrs. Benson walked briskly down the hallway towards her apartment. She'd just finished a busier-than-usual evening shift at the hospital and was looking forward to curling up in the bed with a cup of tea and a good book. As she rounded the corner, she spotted Sam curled up in the Shay's doorway. Her mouth was slightly open, and blond hair covered half her face.

Mrs. Benson crouched in front of the sleeping girl and gently shook her shoulder. "Sam," she whispered, "time to wake up."

Sam threw her arm over her face and mumbled, "I'm too tired to go upstairs. I'll just sleep on the couch."

"Sam!" said Mrs. Benson more forcefully. Sam opened her eyes and blinked sleepily. "Come inside. I'll make you a cup of tea."

***

Sam sat at the small, well-scrubbed kitchen table. She was wearing, under protest, a pair of Freddie's faded pajamas, which smelled faintly of laundry soap and even more faintly of bleach. She sipped chamomile tea from a large blue mug painted with slightly lopsided yellow and orange daisies. Mrs. Benson sat across the table. Her hands cradled a green mug with three evenly spaced rows of hand-painted black squares. _Must be one Freddie made, _thought Sam absently.

Mrs. Benson finally broke the silence. "Why didn't you let yourself in? From the stories Freddie has told me, you don't normally let a locked door stand in your way."

Sam frowned, remembering. "I was about to, but I heard giggling and…. Um, it sounded like I would be interrupting something. I sat down to wait for Spencer's date to leave, and I guess I fell asleep."

"Can I ask why you aren't sleeping at home?" asked Mrs. Benson.

"Fight with my boyfriend," said Sam in a bored voice.

Mrs. Benson considered her next question for a moment. "Do you need help?"

"I can take care of myself," said Sam. She poked the lemon wedge in her tea and watched it bob up and down.

Mrs. Benson looked as if she might say something else, but instead she picked up her mug and rinsed it in the sink. She held out her hand for Sam's mug, and said briskly, "You can sleep in Freddie's room tonight. I'll put on clean sheets in a minute. I keep extra toothbrushes in the hall closet. Dental floss is in the right hand drawer by the sink. What time do you need to wake up tomorrow?"

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A/N: If anyone is willing to beta this story for me, I would be grateful.


	2. Chapter 1

I don't own iCarly. Julie is mine, but I'm not sure if I like her all that much.

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December 24, 2013, Shay's Apartment

Sam couldn't remember the last time she'd been so nervous. She tried on every top in her closet, but couldn't find a single one that hid the fact she wasn't just gaining weight. She finally settled on the one her mom had given her earlier today. The red, sparkly material hugged her chest, then draped loosely over her growing belly. She frowned in the mirror at the low neckline, and thought, _Well, what else would mom buy? At least it's Christmassy._

***

When Spencer opened the door, he glanced down at the bag of presents that Sam clutched awkwardly to her stomach. He raised his eyebrows. "Hello, friend of my sister," he said a little too heartily. "Welcome to my humble abode. Let me put those presents under the tree."

Carly jumped up from the couch and hurried to the doorway. "Oh my God, Sam," she said excitedly, "it's been so long." She threw her arms around Sam, squeezing her tight. She drew back quickly, staring at Sam's belly. "Oh, Sam, tell me you didn't."

"OK, I didn't," said Sam, grinning hopefully at Carly.

"Don't you smile at me," snapped Carly. "That's the same stupid smile you used to give me when you'd just put mice in Mrs. Briggs' desk drawer. When exactly were you planning to tell me?"

Sam couldn't resist giving Carly another sheepish smile. "It just seemed like the kind of thing I ought to say in person."

"How long?" asked Carly.

"Four months."

"God, you can be so stupid," said Carly, still irritated.

"So, I was a little careless," shrugged Sam.

"Sam," shouted Carly. "Being late for work is a little careless! Forgetting to brush your teeth is a little careless! You just ruined your life."

"Thank you so much for being supportive," Sam shouted back.

The door to the Benson's apartment opened. Freddie strode across the hall and laid a hand on each girl's shoulder. "Guys, I don't know what you're fighting about, but my mom can hear you." Glancing at the open door to the Shay's apartment, he said, "Spencer and Julie, too. Are you done yet, or do you still need to sort this out?"

Carly shook Freddie's hand off and said, "We're not done yet."

"Wait," Sam said to Carly. "Can you give us a minute?"

Carly looked from Sam to Freddie. "Sure. I'll be inside." She shut the door behind her.

Sam turned slowly to face Freddie. She placed a hand unconsciously on her belly. "I'm pregnant. I should have told you guys sooner."

For once in Sam's life, she couldn't read Freddie's face. He stared at her for an immeasurable length of time. Finally, he asked quietly, "Is that why Tony left you?"

"Yeah, he was pretty freaked—"

Freddie cut her off. "I'm going for a walk."

Sam grabbed his arm, but he pulled away from her with more strength than she thought he had. He slammed his fist against the wall. "Damn it, Sam!" He spat the words at her. "I can't talk to you right now. I'm going for a walk." He shoved past her around the corner, and she heard his footsteps pounding down the stairs.

She rested her forehead against the cool wall for a moment. Then she entered the Shay's apartment and headed for the kitchen. Carly turned towards Sam with a questioning look on her face. "That did not go well," said Sam.

"Never mind," said Carly, passing Sam a handful of silverware. "Just set the table."

Noticing Sam, Spencer put his arm around the redhead standing next to him by the stove. "Sam, this is Julie. Julie, Sam."

Julie smiled and said, "Nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you."

Spencer dipped a spoon into the white enamel pot simmering on the stove. He took a sip. "Hot, hot, hot!" he exclaimed, fanning his mouth. Julie rolled her eyes and poured him a glass of water. She wasn't fat, Sam realized, but curvy—wide-hipped and full-chested with a definite waist. Her hair was a wild shoulder length mass of curls and her eyes were tricky—not quite brown, not quite green. Julie took a spoonful of sauce, blew to cool it and sipped carefully. She selected nutmeg from the assortment of herbs and spices on the island counter and shook out a generous amount into the palm of her hand. Spencer grabbed her wrist and said, "Don't mess with a famous Shay family recipe." She quickly wriggled out of his grasp and threw the spice into the pot. She stirred and then held a spoonful towards Spencer. He tasted it and said, "Oh. My. God. This is so good. You are a cooking goddess."

They finished preparing the meal and sat down at the table. Sam noticed that no one mentioned Freddie's empty seat. _OK, no family business in front of Julie, _she thought._ Spencer's crazy enough without the rest of us helping to scare her off. _Spencer and Julie carried the conversation, although Sam and Carly made an effort to join in. Freddie walked in halfway through the meal. He apologized to Julie and Spencer for being late, but didn't offer any excuse.

"It's fine, sweetie," said Julie. "Stuff happens. Now, where was I?"

"You were going to tell us about your first date," said Carly.

"That's right. I rang the doorbell and heard someone shout, 'Come in and help me.' So I open the door and there are these big tubes everywhere. Spencer shouted, 'I'm stuck.' I looked around until I found a tube with two feet sticking out."

"You know," said Carly, "that's when a normal woman would have run away."

"I know," said Julie, placing her hand over Spencer's. "Lucky for your brother I'm not normal."

"So, what were you building?" asked Sam.

"The University Botanical Gardens have a living art display every summer," said Spencer. "This year's theme was mazes, and I thought 'What could be cooler than a human Habitrail?'"

"Like a hamster run?" asked Freddie, and Sam noticed how normal his voice sounded. _Good for you, Fredward. You've finally learned to hide your feelings._

"How did you get him out?" Carly asked Julie.

"I found the other end of the tube and crawled in," she said. "It turns out he wasn't stuck stuck. There was a row of rivets running along the inside of the tube and he'd snagged his pants. So I told him not to be embarrassed, go ahead and take them off."

"Before I'd even bought her dinner," said Spencer, waggling his eyebrows.

"We decided it was too late to cook," said Julie, ignoring the comment, "so we roller bladed to the park and bought hotdogs from the little stand by the fountain. Have you guys ever seen him roller blade?"

"Yeah."

"Uh huh."

"Scary, isn't it?"

"I only fell down four times," said Spencer, pouting.

"So what in the world made you decide to go out with him again?" asked Freddie curiously.

"Well," said Julie, "he's great—" Spencer shot Julie a warning look. "He's great at flirting. And I think my mothering instincts kicked in. I'm the oldest of five girls and two boys, so I've spent a lot of time putting on band-aids and stuff like that."

"I'm glad someone's here to take care of Spencer now that I'm gone," said Carly.

"I'm a grown man," said Spencer. "I can take care of myself."

"Of course you can," agreed Carly.

The evening was less stressful than Sam anticipated, even though the only words Freddie said to her for the rest of the evening were "Thank you for the present, Sam," and "Good night."

* * *

A/N: Help! If anybody knows how to get single spacing, please tell me. I've got an e-mail in the next chapter, and it really bugs me to have the to/from/date lines with spaces between them.


	3. Chapter 2

I don't own iCarly. If I did, it wouldn't be nearly as funny as it is.

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December 28, 2013, iCarly studio

Sam and Carly sprawled side by side on two beanbags. Sam balanced a huge bowl of popcorn on her stomach. Carly said, "I'm still mad at you, Sam. I thought you were done hurting Freddie."

"Looks like it's going to be a life-long job," said Sam, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth.

Carly grabbed the bowl and held it where Sam couldn't reach it. "Not funny. I still don't get why you broke up with him."

Sam shrugged. "He was going to college. Long distance relationships never work."

"It didn't solve anything," said Carly. "He's still totally in love with you."

Sam rolled her eyes. "You know him. He won't move on until he meets someone new." She reached over Carly and retrieved the popcorn.

"Freddie dated like 30 different girls this fall," said Carly. "He never went on a second date."

"So a lot of girls rejected our little dork," replied Sam. "What's new about that?"

"I set him up with my roommate, Sam. She was like totally crushing on him, but he never called her back. So, of course, I asked him, and he admitted that she was pretty and funny and nice, but she just wasn't the one. Then he asked if I knew anyone else." Carly looked worried. "I think he's looking for another you."

"Do you know what Freddie wants to be when he grows up?" asked Sam, not meeting Carly's gaze.

"Some techie thing?" guessed Carly.

"He wants to be the next George Lucas," said Sam.

"Who?"

"The guy who directed the original Galaxy Wars," explained Sam.

"Not something you can really do if you stay in Seattle," mused Carly. "That's why you got pregnant? So you wouldn't hold him back?"

"I don't know what I was thinking, Carls. I wasn't really thinking at all." Sam frowned. "It's too late to worry about it now."

Carly leaned over and gave Sam a hug. "You know I love you. Otherwise I wouldn't have put up with you for this long."

***

Sent December 28, 2013, 11:42 PM  
From Slackergirl128  
To Techboy

I'm sorry.

***

January 4, 2014, Groovy Smoothie

Sam was nearing the end of her shift when Spencer walked up to the counter and ordered a Blueberry Banana Blitz and a Mocha Swirl. "Are you off work soon?" he asked.

"Seven minutes," she replied.

"Come sit with us when you're done," he said, nodding towards the table where Julie was playing with the straw dispenser. When she noticed them looking at her, she smiled and waved at Sam.

"OK," she said and continued, "Thank you for choosing Groovy Smoothie," as her manager walked behind her.

By the time Sam clocked out, Spencer and Julie were holding hands, fingers intertwined, murmuring quietly to each other and looking very much like two people who are about to kiss.

"So people, what's up?" asked Sam.

"We had an idea," said Spencer as Sam sat down.

"It can be hard to raise a child on a minimum wage job—" started Julie.

"And I've told Julie a little bit about your mom—" continued Spencer.

"And we were wondering if you'd like to stay with us?" asked Julie.

"Really?" asked Sam. "Is this your mothering instincts again?" Although she wasn't quite sure why, Sam was angry. The words 'I can take care of myself' were already in her mouth, but she didn't say them. Instead, she clenched her fist under the table. _Think about the baby._

"Sam," said Spencer in a placating voice. "You know I care about you almost as much as I care about Carly. If she were in a rough spot, I would want someone to help her."

Sam relaxed slightly. "I really can't afford a place of my own, especially when I'm off work right after the baby is born. And my mom thinks a baby would irritate the cat."

"Is it settled then?" asked Julie.

"Sure, I guess," said Sam. "When do you guys want me to move in?"

"Whenever," said Spencer. "Socko's cousins Van and Carrie own a moving company. They can swing by your apartment and pick up your stuff. I figured you'd take the third floor. Then we won't be in each other's way."

"It's not very childproof," said Julie, "but you've got plenty of time to figure that out before the baby comes."

***

Sent January 14, 2014, 2:47 PM  
From Slackergirl128  
To Techboy

Your mom drove me to the Seattle Women's Clinic. Check the video-clip. I know it looks like a bunch of blobs, but it's actually a baby girl.

Sent February 16, 2014, 5:42 AM  
From Slackergirl128  
To Techboy

This little parasite has taken over my brain. I ate 2 entire heads of steamed broccoli yesterday. Can you imagine me eating broccoli?

March 12, 2014, 6:32 PM  
From Slackergirl128  
To Techboy

Your mom brought over whole-grain, fruit-juice-sweetened cookies. Yum. Not.

Sent March 27, 2014, 8:57 PM  
From Slackergirl128  
To Techboy

Ha! My smoothie got voted employee smoothie of the month. The PB & Marmalade. (It's a tangerine smoothie with peanut butter mixed in.) I decided to give up on the meatball smoothie. My boss has no imagination.

Sent April 17, 2014, 7:21 PM  
From Slackergirl128  
To Techboy

Your mom is insane. Every day I come home and find flyers taped to our door. This week it was _Folic Acid Is Your Baby's Friend_, _Mommy and Me Yoga_, and _How to Find the Ideal Birthing Coach_. As if. Pain is something I do to other people. The second I'm in the hospital, I'm screaming for drugs.

Sent April 22, 2014, 2:15 AM  
From Slackergirl128  
To Techboy

Come on, Frednerd. Answer me. You can't stay mad forever.

Sent May 25, 2014, 1:04 PM  
From Slackergirl128  
To Techboy

I'm now officially one week overdue. Guess my baby is as lazy as I am. I've been lying on the couch for like 5 hours watching Girly Cow reruns.

Sent May 27, 2014, 5:07 PM  
From Slackergirl128  
To Techboy; LadyShay; Greywolf; IluvPandas; Hotmama75; Mbenson2493

Melanie Ann Puckett was born yesterday at 1:15 PM. 8 lbs, 7 oz. She looks like Yoda, but all newborns look like that.

***

A few days after Sam got home from the hospital, a package arrived in the mail. She opened the padded envelope and pulled out a copy of _Green Eggs and Ham_. She shook the envelope, but no card fell out. Flipping through the pages, she found a note written inside the front cover in Freddie's neat handwriting: "To Melanie Puckett, whose mother never met a food she didn't like. Love, Uncle Freddie."

*******

June 28, 2014, Shay's Apartment

Even though Carly was spending the summer in France (close to her father and a cute foreign exchange student she met at Wheaton), Spencer insisted that they invite Freddie over. "If you don't sort things out, kiddo, you're both going to be uncomfortable every time you open the door for the rest of summer. I've seen you checking the peephole before you leave."

After dinner they reminisced about iCarly. Much to Freddie's surprise, Julie insisted that they play a few rounds of What Am I Sitting On? When it was her turn, she guessed baked beans in under 20 seconds. However, everyone agreed that Sam was still the reigning champion when she sat down and said, "Ribs. Beef not pork. Pork are better. And why did you get these from Backyard Barbeque? Smokehouse has the best ribs in Seattle. "

The game broke up when Melanie began to stir in her bassinette. Sam picked her up as she began to fuss. "Well, I'd better go upstairs and feed her."

Freddie asked, "Why don't you feed her down here?" Sam just raised an eyebrow. "Oh," said Freddie, "You're—" and stopped in embarrassment.

When Sam got back downstairs, Julie was snuggled up against Spencer's chest on the couch. Freddie was eating popcorn in the black leather chair and _Galaxy Wars_ had just started. "Couldn't you have waited until I got back to pick the movie?" whined Sam.

"We thought about it, kiddo, but you still would have been outvoted 3 to 1," said Spencer.

"Not you too," said Sam to Julie. "I thought you had better taste."

"She has excellent taste," said Freddie. "This is a classic."

Sam crossed her arms and flopped down on the couch. "I'm surrounded by nerds," she muttered.

Halfway through the move, Spencer yawned dramatically. "Boy, I'm tired. Maybe we should go to bed."

Julie leaned close to his ear. Sam caught the word "rude." Spencer grinned mischievously and tickled her until she giggled helplessly. He whispered in her ear and she blushed. "Well, kids, if you don't mind, I guess I am sort of tired."

Sam and Freddie glanced at each other. Freddie said with a smirk, "No, of course not. We'll just finish watching the movie. We can turn the sound down if you think it will keep you awake."

"Um," said Spencer in an embarrassed voice, "You should probably turn it up."

Sam and Freddie caught each other's eye. Once Spencer and Julie were safely out of the room, they burst out laughing. "Oh my God," gasped Freddie, wiping tears from his eyes. "Are they always like that?"

"Actually, no," said Sam. "I think they usually save it until after I go to bed."

"You know," said Freddie thoughtfully, "Spencer might have worked harder than we thought to keep things G-rated while Carly lived here."

"Could be," said Sam. "Come over here, Fredward. I want the rest of that popcorn."

***

The room was lit only by the bluish glow of the television. Sam woke to someone gently shaking her and a familiar voice saying, "Time to go upstairs, sleepyhead."

Sam mumbled, "Time to wake up Spencer?" and Freddie laughed. She became aware of Melanie's faint wail over the baby monitor.

"Time to check on Melanie," Freddie said, brushing the hair out of Sam's face. Something about the way he smiled when he said goodbye made her think that he'd been watching her sleep for a long time.

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A/N: I cheated on the sonogram. As far as I know, they still come on those flimsy, chemical-smelling pieces of paper. But the technology is available; it would be possible for a clinic to e-mail their patient a sonogram in the form of a video-clip, so I decided to have them do it.


	4. Chapter 3

I don't own iCarly. I just obsess about it.

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July 7, 2014, Shay's Apartment

Sam sat at the counter, concentrating on the screen in front of her. Spencer looked over her shoulder. "Hey, kiddo, what are you doing?"

"Looking for a job," she said. "I thought maybe I could do better than assistant manager at Groovy Smoothie, so I took this self-assessment test."

He leaned in to read the screen. She realized how good it felt to have a male body standing so close to her. Not sexy really, just solid and comforting. "Physical therapist?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. "It says you need physical strength, the ability to tolerate other people's pain and the ability to motivate others."

"So," chuckled Spencer, "all those years you spent harassing Freddie and Gibby are actually going to pay off? What kind of degree do you need?"

Her face fell. "I didn't think about that. I guess I'll just go back to Groovy Smoothie."

"Why?"

"I barely passed high school," she said unhappily.

"You're smart, Sam. You just don't give yourself credit. Tell me again why Freddie wore a dress to school."

"I bet I could score higher than him on the SAT."

"Yep," he said. "Look, kiddo, I was total screw-up in high school and I made it into law school. You can do this."

***

July 11, 2014, Ridgeway High School

"Principal Franklin, I really appreciate you seeing me during the summer," said Spencer. "Are you willing to do a good deed for a former student?"

"Any time, Spencer," replied Ted graciously. "It's always a pleasure to see you. What can I do for Carly?"

"Actually, I'm here about Sam Puckett."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not willing to lift the restraining order until next year's class graduates. Timmy Foster still goes for therapy twice a week."

"Actually, she's applying to several local colleges for a degree in physical therapy. Her grades weren't exactly—well, they sucked," admitted Spencer. "I'm hoping you'd be willing to write her a letter of recommendation."

Principal Franklin thought for a moment. "Well, I suppose I could say that she's determined… resourceful… intelligent. She's likely to achieve any goal she sets for herself. I don't have to mention that her goal is generally destruction of school property or tying a fellow student to the flagpole. Does that work?"

"Thank you, Ted," said Spencer. That would be great."

"I'll get it in the mail this week. Just give Ms. Banes the contact information on the way out."

"Oh, and Spencer…"

"Yes?"

"I loved your Trash to Penguins exhibit at the zoo last spring. I don't suppose you'd be willing to come by on Career Day and give some of our budding artists a little talk?"

***

October 23, 2014, Shay's Apartment

Curled up on the couch, Sam scowled at a heavy textbook. Spencer balanced precariously near the top of a ladder and attached an enormous pair of metallic butterfly wings to the top of an unstable-looking tower of junk. "Hey, Sam, can you hand me my pliers?" Sam roared with frustration and hurled the book across the room. It bounced off the ladder. "Watch it!" yelled Spencer. "All you had to do was say no. You didn't have to try and kill me."

"This class is killing _me_," snapped Sam. "Why do I need to know the name of every muscle in the body?"

"Because your teachers hate you." Spencer climbed down the ladder. As he reached the bottom, his face lit up. "Wait here."

He came back with a large bucket of modeling clay in one hand and a skeleton tucked under his arm. "This is Mr. Bones. Mr. Bones is going to help us learn human anatomy." Spencer picked up the skeleton's hand and waved it at Sam. "Hello, Sam."

"Please tell me that's not real."

"No, it's just a model. I got him to scare off those mean kids who used to harass me on Halloween. Now go get your book." Sam retrieved the book and found the page that had frustrated her earlier. Spencer took the book out of her hand and studied it for a moment. "OK. Tell me where the soleus muscle is."

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Somewhere in the leg?"

"Get out some clay," directed Spencer. "You are going to make a soleus muscle and attach it to Mr. Bones' fibula. Use the pictures to figure it out."

When Julie walked in later that afternoon, Melanie was lying on a blanket, cooing contentedly while trying to put her foot in her mouth. Sam and Spencer sat nearby, surrounded by a half-dismantled skeleton and ropes of clay. Their heads were bent together over a book. "Honey, I'm home," called Julie.

Spencer looked up and asked, "How was your day?" Julie started to tell him a funny story about Noah Parker and Allie Nichols fighting over a swing, but she realized before she finished that his attention had drifted back to the pretty little blond sitting next to him.

***

November 7, 2014, Mall-Mart

"Shouldn't your school provide this stuff?" asked Sam as Julie tossed packages of construction paper into the cart.

"Same old story. Funding cuts," said Julie, picking up a jumbo-size bucket of foam stickers, checking the price and setting it back on the shelf. "Out in the suburbs, they ask the parents for donations, but in our district…."

"A lot of people couldn't afford it," finished Sam.

"I really don't mind doing this," said Julie. "I love the kids. I think of them as my own."

"Do you think you and Spencer will ever have any?" asked Sam. Seeing the distressed look on Julie's face, she said, "Whoa. Didn't mean to get personal there."

"No, it's OK. I'm just not sure how much longer Spencer and I—" She broke off. "Please don't say anything to him. I may be imagining things."

Sam frowned. "I thought you guys were doing fine. You've lasted a lot longer than any of his other girlfriends." She paused to look down the next aisle. "Turn here. I need to pick up diapers."

***

December 17, 2014, Shay's Apartment

Julie looked impatiently at her watch as she spooned applesauce into Melanie's mouth. The front door finally opened. Sam and Spencer walked in, loaded down with shopping bags. Their faces were flushed with cold and laughter. Sam walked over to Julie and said, "Thank you so much for watching Mel. You should see all the things we got her."

Julie gave Sam a thin-lipped smile and said, "No problem." Turning to Spencer, she said, "Do you realize our reservation is in 20 minutes?"

"Wow. Really?" he asked. "I must have lost track of the time." Julie glared at him and he said apologetically, "If we leave now, we can probably still make it."

After the door clicked shut, Sam wiped some applesauce off Melanie's chin and leaned towards her conspiratorially. "Uh oh, Monkey. Somebody's jealous. Mommy had better leave poor Uncle Spencer alone."


	5. Chapter 4

I don't own iCarly. If I did I'd probably have to move to LA.

Huge thanks to Tony for beta-ing this chapter.

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February 11, 2015, Shay's Apartment

Sam let herself into the apartment. Melanie was balanced on one hip and a large polka-dot bag was slung over her shoulder. She nearly tripped over Spencer, who was lying spread-eagled on the floor and staring blankly at the ceiling. Sam carefully stepped around him. She sat Melanie on the floor, unzipped and removed her coat, and dug out a board book, which Melanie promptly put in her mouth. Sam turned and crouched next to Spencer. "Hi," she said.

"Hi," he said miserably.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Julie left."

Sam sat down on the floor next to Spencer. "Want to talk about it?" Spencer shook his head. Sam pulled off her coat, tossed it next to her bag and quickly glanced at her daughter, who was still happily gumming the book. "Time to stop wallowing," she said, grabbing Spencer's hands and tugging him up to a sitting position. "Let's get something to eat. That always makes me feel better." A tiny smile flashed across Spencer's face. Sam patted his shoulder, stood up and held out her hands. "OK. Up!" She quickly pulled him to his feet. "Go get dressed. A shave wouldn't hurt either."

Another tiny smile flickered across Spencer's face. "Yes, Carly," he said.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Well, someone has to take care of you now that she's gone." She glanced at Melanie again. "No, Melanie. Yuck." She bent down, put her finger into the baby's mouth and scooped out a wad of chewed cardboard. "Spencer," she called, "I'm going up to get fresh diapers and a teething ring. I'll be ready in ten minutes." She picked up Melanie and headed for the stairs.

***

February 16, 2015, Shay's Apartment

Sam switched off the light and walked out of the kitchen. Spencer sat on the couch staring at a blank television screen. "Want some company?" asked Sam.

He turned his head towards her. "I thought you'd gone to bed."

"I found a bottle under Mel's crib. I wanted to rinse it out before it got any stinkier than it already was." She sat down and rested her feet on the coffee table. "What's up?"

"Nothing," he said. "Just watching TV."

"It's not on."

"Oh."

They sat together in comfortable silence for a while. Sam noticed Spencer's hand lying next to hers on the couch and gave it a squeeze. "Come on, Shay. Suck it up. She's not worth it."

"She thought I was in love with someone else," he said softly.

"She should've asked me," said Sam. "I could have told her you're not the kind of guy who cheats."

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"It's not a compliment, dude. You couldn't lie well enough to pull it off."

Spencer was silent again. He reached over and started absent-mindedly tracing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. She realized that there was a certain tension in the room that hadn't been there a minute ago. _Uh oh, _she thought. _Do I let him say it?_ Sighing quietly, she withdrew her hand and said, "I've got an eight o'clock class, Spence. I'd better get to bed." She tried not to glance back as she went up the stairs.

***

April 1, 2015, Shay's Apartment

A large white plaster bear stood surrounded by drop cloths in the center of the room. Spencer pried the lid off a bucket of paint as Sam came out of the kitchen with the remains of a sandwich. "Hey, Sam," he called. "What's your schedule like today? Have time for a little splatter painting?"

"Sure. Mel should sleep for another hour, and I don't have to be at work until three," she said. "But aren't polar bears supposed to be white?"

"Yes, they are. But this is a grizzly. He's supposed to be orange and turquoise."

Sam dipped her hand in the lime green and slung paint at the bear. Spencer scooped up a handful of orange. After several minutes the bear and the drop cloths were a riot of color. Spencer stepped back to admire their work. Saying "You are a natural at this," he gestured towards Sam, accidentally spraying her face with paint. After the briefest instant of shock, she grinned and flicked her paint-covered hands in his direction. He scooped up another handful of paint and flung it at her as she stepped forward, intending to wipe her dripping hands down the front of his shirt. He sidestepped and tripped over the edge of the tarp. Arms flailing, he fell backwards. His head hit the floor with a sharp crack.

Sam quickly wiped her hands on her pants and knelt down next to him. "Are you all right?" she asked, probing through his hair with gentle fingers. "It's not bleeding, but that's going to be a pretty nasty bump." Impulsively, he wrapped his hand through her hair and pulled her in for a kiss. It was sweet and gentle and not all that unexpected. When he drew back with a questioning look in his eyes, she smiled. He pulled her back down, and even the oily taste of paint in her mouth didn't make her want to stop.

They were kissing hungrily, his hand just creeping under the waistband of her pants, her hands undoing the buttons on his shirt, when she heard the softest of whimpers on the baby monitor. She froze. When Spencer murmured, "Is everything all right?" she hushed him and listened intently. Finally she whispered, "It's OK. She went back to sleep." He started to kiss her again, but she shook her head and sat up.

"We lost the moment, huh?" he said ruefully.

"Yeah, I just…" she trailed off.

He sat up and watched her face for a while, then gently tapped the side of her head and said, "Hey, what's going on in there?" When she didn't answer, he tipped his head to one side and called, "Sa-am, oh, Sa-am, where are you?"

She smiled tentatively. "Look, I'm not mad or anything. I just need to think."

"OK." He touched the back of his head gingerly. "I'm going to go put ice on this. You should probably wash the paint out of your hair before it dries." As she stood up, he said, "Do me a favor. Leave your clothes here on the drop cloth." Seeing the expression on her face, he added, "So you don't track paint all over the apartment. Here," he said, covering his eyes with widely spaced fingers and smirking, "I promise not to peek."

***

When Sam got home after closing, Spencer was asleep on the couch. She switched off the television and walked quietly towards the stairs. Spencer shifted position and mumbled, "I don't want apricots on my pizza." She expected him to drift off again, but he rubbed his eyes and said drowsily, "Want to watch TV or something?"

"Nah, I'm tired," she said, continuing towards the stairs.

"Sam?" he asked, sounding much more wide-awake. "What happened? Did I do something wrong?"

"No."

"Then what happened?" he asked.

She wasn't sure herself, but she realized that until she made some excuse he wouldn't let it go. "It just doesn't seem fair to you. With work and school and Melanie, I don't have any time left over. I'm always tired. I already rely on you too much." _I don't want to rely on anyone this much. _

"Sam, I don't expect things to be perfect. I love you more because you're not perfect."

"So now what?" she asked.

"Now I convince you to fall in love with me."

***

April 4, 2015, Shay's Apartment

Sam dropped off Melanie with Mrs. Benson and let herself back into the apartment. While she'd been gone, Spencer had lighted candles and put music on the stereo. The smell of roasting chicken filled the apartment. Spencer came out of his bathroom wearing a clean shirt and stopped dead. Sam wasn't actually wearing a dress, but her blouse was somehow _softer _than the things she normally wore. The rich, saturated blue brought out the color of her eyes. Her blond hair floated loosely around her face, and she was wearing makeup, something she hadn't bothered with since high school. "My God, Sam, you're beautiful."

"You're not bad-looking yourself." She looked longingly at the table. "Are you going to feed me?" He carved the chicken and placed half of it on her plate.

During dinner they talked about everything and nothing. He was always so much himself that she seldom felt the need to lie. When they were almost done eating, he stepped into the kitchen for a minute, saying, "Don't peek," as he popped something in the oven. A few minutes later he said, "For dessert, we have chocolate mousse or…." He came to the table and waved a cookie sheet with a flourish. "Pigs in a blanket."

Sam laughed.

"Dumb idea, huh?" he said with a slight pout.

"No, perfect," said Sam, grabbing one off the hot cookie sheet and nearly burning her tongue on the first bite.

"You know," he said, "I really do have chocolate mousse."

"Go get it," she said. "You know you want it."

When they were finished, he asked, "Horror or romance? I've got _Nightmare on Elm Street, When Harry Met_—"

Sam wrapped her arms around his neck and said, "Let's finish what we started the other day."

His mouth was on hers as she dragged him down to the floor. They weren't gentle this time. He pinned her arms to the floor and let the full weight of his body rest on her as he thrust his tongue in her mouth. Taking control, she flipped them over and ground her body against his. They tore themselves apart just long enough to tug off a shirt or unzip a pair of pants. Breathing heavily, her lips still brushing his, she asked, "Do you have—?" He murmured "bedroom" into her mouth. She couldn't remember later exactly how they made it down the hallway, just that they had shed the rest of their clothing by the time they tumbled onto the bed. The tiny part of her mind still capable of rational thought was amazed by how desperately she wanted him.

The second time they took things much more slowly. Afterwards, lying with her head on his shoulder and her arm around his waist, she said, "My entire body is happy. I never want to move again."

He kissed the top of her head and said, "I love you, too."


	6. Chapter 5

I don't own iCarly or _The Going to Bed Book. _Credit to the awesome Sandra Boynton for writing toddler books that are fun for grownups to read.

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April 22, 2015, Shay's Apartment

Carly's old room had a new coat of paint, each wall a different pastel color. Melanie sat in Sam's lap in the rocking chair Spencer had picked up at the junkyard last summer. Sam continued reading in a slow, soothing voice, "The day is done. They say good night, and somebody turns off the light." Melanie's head drooped slowly towards her shoulder. "The moon is high. The sea is deep. They rock and rock and rock to sleep." She rocked a little longer, until her daughter's breathing was slow and steady. She lifted her heavy, warm body carefully into the crib and pulled a blanket over her. She whispered, "Goodnight, Melly Belly," and turned off the light.

Walking up the stairs, her legs ached slightly. Even with the elevator, moving three rooms' worth of furniture was a workout. She wondered if Carly would mind being moved to Spencer's old room, but it didn't seem likely that Carly would ever live here again, other than the occasional weekend or Christmas break. She entered the old studio and found Spencer waiting for her in the double bed that she and Melanie had shared during those first few weeks before she decided she really did need a crib. She crawled under the covers and laid her head on his chest.

"I've been thinking, Sam. Why don't you quit the Groovy Smoothie?"

"Because I use that money to pay Mrs. Giuliani to watch Melanie," explained Sam in a patient voice. "We've talked about this before. You already watch her in the evenings. Watching her during the day would interfere with your work."

"I know you don't want me to, Sam, but I can afford to pay her." Sam started to interrupt and he placed his hand gently on her lips. "Let me finish. This is totally selfish. I'm tired of Mrs. Benson popping her head in several times a week to make sure I haven't set the baby on fire. I want to fall asleep with you next to me every single night. I want your weekends free, so I can do naughty things to you every time Mel goes down for a nap."

Sam leaned up to nuzzle his neck. "Speaking of naughty things, can you think of anything you'd like to do right now?"

***

August 3, 2015, Seattle Animal Haven

Spencer peered into one cage after another, while Sam held up Melanie and said, "See the kitties. We're getting a kitty today." Melanie's chubby little hands reached towards the kitties, but Sam held her just out of reach.

"Nice coloring," said Spencer, pointing to a gray kitten with black ears and paws.

"Look at the way she's huddled up at the back of the cage," said Sam doubtfully. "I want a cat with confidence."

"How about that one?" asked Spencer, pointing to an older green-eyed tabby pawing at the latch of her cage.

"She might be perfect," said Sam, waving one of the volunteers over.

The gray-haired woman unlocked the cage and carried the cat to the shelter's "bonding room." Spencer held Melanie as Sam sat cross-legged on the floor and lightly patted her leg. The tabby crept cautiously towards Sam. She paused, ears alert and whiskers twitching, then bounded onto to Sam's lap. She rubbed her head against Sam's chest and purred. Sam laughed. "She's a keeper."

As Spencer cradled the cat in his arms and Sam paid the adoption fee, the volunteer said to Melanie, "Aren't you a lucky girl? Mommy and Daddy got you such a nice kitty."

Spencer started to explain, but Sam laid a hand on his arm. He shot her a look, but stayed quiet. Once they were outside, he said, "Sorry, I guess you don't want me to tell your life history to everyone I meet."

"It's OK," she said. "I just wanted to pretend it was true."

***

October 23, 2015, Shay's Apartment

Sam walked out of the bathroom and showed Spencer a plastic stick with two distinct blue lines. He shouted, "Yes!" and threw his arms around her, lifting her feet off the ground.

"Gee, Spence, try to be a little excited, would you?" she said sarcastically.

"I'm a daddy!" he shouted gleefully. "How cool is that?"

"It's great," she said in a tired voice.

He stared at her. "You don't look very happy."

She stared down at the floor. "It's just—we've been careful." She sounded outraged. "The odds are like one percent. Sometimes I have all the luck." She jabbed the floor with her toe. When he didn't answer, she looked up and saw the disappointment on his face. "Hey," she said gently, her expression softening, "I would love to have your baby, Spencer Shay. I just didn't expect it to happen so soon." She smiled reassuringly at him until he smiled back.

Putting his hand on her stomach, he asked, "So how big is he now?"

"Probably not even a lima bean."

He knelt down with his face next to her tummy and said, "Hello, little lima bean. I'm your daddy."

Sam wrapped her hand around his and said, "I'm glad you're happy, Spence."

***

October 24, 2015, Shay's Apartment

As Sam sliced a banana onto Melanie's plate, Spencer walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Sam, I've been thinking. Since you're pregnant, maybe we should get—" Without even thinking, Sam swung around and punched him in the arm. With a hurt look on his face, he turned and walked away.

"Spencer?"

He didn't answer. After making sure Melanie was securely fastened in her highchair, Sam followed Spencer down the hall to his old room. The door was locked. She started to pull a bobby pin out of her pocket, but something made her reconsider. With a fluttery feeling in her stomach, she knocked. She waited as long as she could stand it, and then pounded on the door with her fist. She heard a faint sound that she couldn't identify, but Spencer didn't open the door.

Sam bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying and went up to Mel's room to pack a bag for the sitter.

***

When she got home, the dishes she had left in the sink that morning were gone. She check Spencer's door again. Still shut. The quiet hum of a television with the volume turned down low came from his room. Sam felt numb, but she forced herself to fix dinner. She let Melanie splash happily in the bathtub and did all the usual funny voices when she read her bedtime story. Once her daughter was in her crib, Sam went back down to Spencer's room. She knocked again, but after waiting a minute, she slipped a bobby pin into the lock. "Don't do it," warned Spencer. His voice was so close. She realized he was standing inches away from her and placed the palm of her hand against the door. "Spencer?" she whispered. She waited until she was certain he wouldn't answer, and then went upstairs to their empty bed to sleep.

***

After Sam left, Spencer found a rubber ball on his dresser. He bounced it against the wall, a little harder each time, until it flew over his shoulder and ricocheted around the room. He sat down on the couch and realized he was sitting on something. He pulled his cell phone out from under him. He stared at it for a while, then dialed Carly's number.

"Spencer? Can I call back later?" asked Carly. "I've got two papers due tomorrow."

"Sure," said Spencer in a sad voice. "Bye."

"Wait," said Carly. "You sound all depressed. Did you fight with Sam?"

"I asked her to marry me and she hit me," he explained.

"What were your exact words?"

"I'm not sure. We're going to have a baby, so I thought this would be a good time—"

"You deserved to be hit," said Carly. "Now she thinks you feel sorry for her—or guilty." Instead of answering, Spencer retrieved the ball from the corner of the room and started to bounce it again. After a long pause, Carly said, "Two pieces of advice. First, if you ask Sam to marry you, do it in a crazy Spencer way. She's not a diamond ring kind of girl, but she still wants a little romance."

"Second?"

"Are you moping on the couch right now?"

"Yes," he said in a sheepish voice.

"I've seen you do this before. You let some girlfriend walk all over you. Then when she finally does something you really can't stand, you dump her and never look back." Spencer heard Carly sigh heavily. With a pleading tone in her voice she said, "Please don't do that to Sam. Stand up to her, but give her a second chance."

***

Sam lay in bed wishing she were asleep. She thought she had imagined the knock, but when she sat up, she saw Spencer on the other side of the glass-paneled door. She felt tears well up and bit her cheek again. When she realized he was waiting for a sign, she gestured for him to come in. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "You're not mad anymore?" she asked in an almost steady voice.

He shook his head slowly. "You hurt my feelings, Sam."

"I'm sorry," she said, reaching over to touch his arm.

"Thank you." He remembered Carly's advice. "I don't know what to do, Sam," he said helplessly. "This is the part where I ask the girl to leave."

"Do you want me to leave?" she asked with tears shining in her eyes.

"No," he said. He rested his head in his hands. "But you can't hit me, Sam. I saw the way you treated Freddie. I'm too old to put up with that."

She moved over next to him and started to rub his arm. "I missed you," she said so quietly that he almost didn't catch the words.

"OK," he said, putting an arm around her shoulder. "Let's give this another chance."

***

November 22, 2015, Shay's Apartment

The counter was heaped with boxes of cereal and crackers and pieces of fruit. The tiny child with wispy blond hair stood with her hands on her hips while Spencer pulled items out of the fridge and held them up one by one. Each time, Melanie shook her head.

Sam interrupted. "You don't have to run a catering service. She'll eat pretty much anything."

"I know," he said, "but she really wants 'wishus.' I've just got to figure this out. I know 'appa' and 'baba,' but 'wishus' has me stumped."

Sam walked to the fridge, nudged Spencer out of the way, got out a slice of ham and began cutting it into bite-sized pieces on a plastic plate. Melanie clapped her hands excitedly.

Spencer stared at Sam as if she were a magician. "How did you know that?"

"Because," said Sam, smiling, "Ham is _delicious._"

***

December 12, 2015, Woodland Park Zoo

Spencer held Sam's hand and eagerly led her down the path. She was slightly irritated at being out on this windy, overcast day, but when she had come out of her last class, Spencer had been fidgeting with nervous anticipation in the hallway. He got this way when he was really pleased with a project, so she had decided that she'd better go see it. Still, she mentally kicked herself when she felt the first drop of rain land on her hand. It was barely forty degrees outside, and the zoo was nearly empty. As they rounded the corner, she saw an enormous mosaic whale, covered with brightly colored tiles. "It's a fountain," Spencer explained, "but they won't turn it on until spring." He tugged her forward, almost dragging her the last ten yards, and said, "Go on; take a closer look." Another raindrop landed on her face.

There were letters on most of the tiles. Sam noticed the obvious words first, the ones spelled out in big, bold, splashy letters. _Zoo. Gila monster. Seattle. Koala. Hippo. Snake._Then she noticed the quotes. _Lions and tigers and bears oh my. Buffalo girls won't you come out tonight. Elephants never forget. _Finally she noticed that interspersed with the larger tiles were small black and white ones, no more than one inch square. She moved closer and started to read them as she slowly circled the piece. _Ham. Japan. Art. Spencer. Random. Kumquats. Shay. Mel. To thine own self be true. Carly. Pie. Pak-Rat_. A light rain was falling, but she didn't want to quit until she found her own name. She finally saw it after circling back to the spot he had led her to in the first place. _Marry me Sam._

The rain fell steadily. She turned to Spencer, who was still fidgeting excitedly. "I think it's your best one yet."

Spencer looked at her nervously. "Are you sure you saw everything?"

"Yeah," she said, suppressing a smile. "Come on, let's get out of the rain."

"Let me show you one more thing," he said with such a disappointed look on his face that she couldn't tease him any longer.

"Yes. I'll marry you. I love you." She threw herself into his arms. He staggered but caught her, and she kissed him fiercely while the rain poured down her face.


	7. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly. Blah, blah-blah, blah-blah.

A/N: Very cheesy ending. But at least there is an ending. For me, that's progress.

* * *

June 2, 2022, Seattle Airport

Spencer waited at the arrivals gate. On a nearby bench, separated by the maximum possible space, sat a blond-haired girl and a brown-eyed boy. Each was playing a Nintendo XLS, but occasionally one would furtively peek at the other, make a face and quickly look away. Sam sat between them and played patty cake with the giggling toddler on her lap. As the passengers started to come through the gate, Spencer caught sight of Freddie, walking next to a dark-haired, slender woman. She was talking quickly, gesturing wildly with her hands. Spencer waved until he caught Freddie's attention. Freddie smiled and touched his wife's arm. They walked over to the waiting Shay family.

"You remember Sarah," said Freddie.

"Good to see you again, Spencer, Sam," she said, hugging Spencer and then placing a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"These are our kids, Melanie, Mike and Lilly," said Sam, gesturing to each child as she said their name.

"Or as we like to call them," said Spencer, grinning wickedly, "Melly Belly, Mikey and the Tiny Tyrant."

"Da-ad," whined Melanie with an embarrassed look on her face. "You promised."

Spencer tousled her hair and said to Sarah and Freddie, "Let's go get your bags."

As the group headed through the crowded airport, Spencer asked Sarah, "What have you been working on lately?"

"Documentaries. Environmental stuff mainly. I've been kicking around an idea about artists who use recycled materials. If I decide to do it, I'll give you a call."

"Sounds awesome," said Spencer enthusiastically.

"When does Carly get in?" asked Freddie.

"Last we heard," said Spencer uncomfortably, "about two hours before the reunion starts."

"We don't really know," said Sam, not hiding the anger in her voice. "She hasn't called or texted for the last week and a half. Spencer's tried to get in touch."

"She's probably just busy," said Freddie in a conciliatory voice. "She's in the middle of a really close campaign. She probably wouldn't even have run this time if the Bellamy scandal hadn't knocked the election wide open."

"She's pissed," said Sam. "Remember that _Time_ article about censorship and the arts?"

"The one with the photo of the piece Spencer did for the Whitney?" said Sarah, nodding.

"I sort of went off on a tangent during the interview," said Spencer sheepishly. "I said that all it takes to raise a healthy child is one adult who's willing to really listen and respect the child's opinion."

"They didn't use it in the art piece, but the media got a hold of it somehow. There've been several articles about Carly's non-traditional family." Sam grimaced. "Half of them make it sound like Spencer's gay or something."

"It shouldn't matter," said Spencer. "I still would have done a good job taking care of Carly if I'd been gay."

"And that," said Freddie, rolling his eyes, "is exactly why Carly doesn't want you talking to reporters. You say whatever you think." Sam glared at Freddie. "I'm not saying Spencer's wrong, but look at it from Carly's point of view. She's already getting a lot of negative attention because she's so young, and Texas is a pretty conservative state."

"So why didn't she move somewhere that's actually made it into the twenty-first century?" asked Sam as she shifted Lilly into a more comfortable position on her hip.

"Because Bradford's law firm is there," said Freddie, his voice getting louder as he spoke. "And don't start in on him again. You said more than enough at their wedding."

Before Sam could answer, Spencer placed a hand on her shoulder and steered the conversation in a safer direction. "So, Freddie, still at Pixel?"

"Dreamplay."

Sam said, "I saw your name in the credits for _Karate Cats_."

"Wow," said Freddie. "It's only been out a week."

Sam shrugged and smiled. "My kids are huge fans of your work." The group finally reached the baggage area. The large circular conveyor belts were still empty. Sam set down Lilly and kneaded her shoulder. "You're getting heavy, big girl."

Lilly stretched her arms towards Sam and said, "Mama, up."

"Hey, Mel," said Sam. "Watch Lilly for a little bit."

Melanie said sulkily, "I don't want to."

"Melanie Ann Shay," said Sam with a warning tone in her voice, "will you please entertain your sister so the grownups can talk?"

Melanie took Lilly's hand and mumbled, "I don't see why I always have to—"

Sam cut her off. "Because I'm the meanest mommy in the world." She smiled apologetically at Sarah and Freddie. The expression on Freddie's face told her that he was trying not to laugh.

"Really makes me look forward to having one of our own," he smirked. Sarah elbowed him in the ribs. "What? I didn't say—"

Sam glanced back and forth between Freddie and Sarah. "Congratulations," she said, giving Sarah a hug. "When are you due?"

"January," she replied. "I have three projects I need to wrap up before then."

Freddie looked slightly worried. "I keep telling her not to push herself too hard. We don't need the money. I make enough to take care of us."

Sarah looked him in the eye. "And I keep telling you that I can take care of myself."

Spencer grinned at Freddie. "You should drop it, Freddo. That's not a battle you're ever going to win."

Sarah asked Sam, "So what have you been up to?"

"Unlike the rest of you," said Sam matter-of-factly, "I'm never going to be famous. I spend most of my time teaching people how to go potty all by themselves."

Sarah looked confused. "You work in a daycare? I thought you were a physical therapist."

"I am. Lately it seems like I've been spending most of my time teaching people how to transfer from a wheelchair to a toilet. Not exactly glamorous." She turned to Freddie. "Don't make faces, Benson. Imagine how helpless you'd feel if you couldn't go to the bathroom by yourself."

Spencer put an arm around her shoulder. "You're too modest, Sam. Tell them about John."

She smiled but shook her head. "Patient confidentiality, Spence."

"That's just an excuse." He said to Freddie and Sarah, "One of Sam's very first patients lost his leg in a car wreck. He lost his wife too. He was driving at the time."

"Damn," said Freddie softly. Sarah murmured sympathetically.

Sam picked up the story. "My first day on the job, I came to get him for PT and he just laid there, staring at the ceiling. So I told him to haul his lazy ass out of bed because his prosthetic wasn't going to walk by itself." She unconsciously pulled a charcoal-gray stone out her pocket and rolled it around on her palm. "He did it, too, but he cursed at me every day for the next six months. Told me more than once that he couldn't hurt my feelings because I didn't have any."

Spencer's arm was still around Sam's shoulder, and he rubbed her arm as if to comfort her. "A year ago she got a letter with a picture of his new wife."

"He said that she was the second person since his accident who never once pitied him. I was the first." She held out her hand. "He sent me this." She tossed the stone to Freddie, who looked quite pleased with himself when he caught it.

Freddie looked at the words etched into the surface. "Shit happens," he read out loud. "Life goes on."

_And they all lived happily ever after._


End file.
